Doll Parts
by a nyr byrjun
Summary: Originally just a one-shot entitled, Doll Parts. Now a place where a reader, you, can request a fantasy to be written out by me. The minimum written is 1000 words. Almost any pairing, maybe femslash, when I get a chance. Just leave a request. Mature.
1. Paradise Circus

_A/N: I wish I could say who this is for, but this person doesn't have an account, she knows who she is. Hope you like this. Tell me how it is._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight._

_Request: A two sided, Bella. One kinky, and the other a recluse high school girl._

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><p><em>The devil makes us sin, but we like it when we're spinning, in his grin. - Massive Attack<em>

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><p><em>He watches her, her luxurious body sway, lower and lower, her back against the cool metal of pole. Her eyes, dancing, fire within them, red and consuming. The way her lips curve, teasing, and mischievous seductive click of tongue on her teeth. Her hands, fingers, cascade down her skin, smooth, soft supple breasts in her palms. Her long legs, feel worthy thighs, and the womb of heat sleuthed between them.<em>

_Oh, how he aches. Pulsing and straining. Hot, mouth dry and breathing shallow. How he needs her. Hands on his knees, she comes before he calls. Slowly, eyes on his, she knows what he wants. Her stance is steady, and without a second thought, she comes to sit on his lap, before she lowers her mouth to his ear. Biting softly, her hand on his trembling throat, she asks with humor in her voice, "Mr. Banner, did you come to see me?"_

_He doesn't know what to say, instead stutters, and turns to look at her, her hands in his hair, smile and light in her eyes. "B-Bella?" She nods slightly, moving her palm to hold his sagging cheek. He looks like he's seen a ghost, and it makes her want to feel his embrace, arms around her, warm and comforting._

_"Didn't recognize me, did you?" She does not feel out of place, far from it, she likes the way he is looking at her, with desire and confusion. She wants to kiss his fears away. "It's alright, I won't bite. Not unless you want me to." He does not speak, he cannot believe the words that are coming out her mouth. Dirty and suggesting. It excites him, and it scares him._

_After all those months, imagining, dreaming, of her and him. He hopes this is not an illusion. "Cat got your tongue?" She bites her lip, and giggles, and moves his hand from his thigh to her back, the touch making the hairs on her neck stand. So gentle, and light, unlike how any other man would hold her. Not even the drunk that is her father._

_"N-no, I just can't believe.." She watches as his eyes flicker to her face, and then to the small clothing that separates him from the depths of wet warmth, that could bring him pleasure and release, his fantasy to life. But it is wrong, he has to tell himself, he shouldn't think this way, not when she is ready and willing._

_She holds a finger to his lips, and his eyes remain on hers, waiting. She grins, and stands from his lap, leaving him in an instant panic, but before he makes a fool of himself, she takes his hand. He follows, his steps hesitant, and guarded. He turns and looks, paranoid that someone will recognize him with her, but no one notices. He has to remember that here, this is normal._

_He is risking everything as he trails behind her, past the entrance to backstage, toward a red door, that she unlocks with a key, hidden otherwise under the strap of her panties. He starts to sweat, the heat of the situation getting to him. He wants to tell her no, that they should not be doing this, but there is part of himself that cannot open his mouth._

_He is hypnotized when she tells him to sit, the door closing behind her, her back against the wood. The room is dark, and he can only see the outline of her face. "Bella?" He asks, he can only imagine what he looks like. Flustered and submissive. She smiles and slowly, pulls down the straps of her lacey bra down, the pink bringing great contrast to her skin._

_"Shh," she whispers, and walks over to him, stopping just in front of his knees, bringing both of his sweaty hands to rest on her thighs. "Relax." Her soft hands, feel small in the balding part of his hair, and he starts to breath heavily, when she lowers herself down onto his lap, taking his left hand and bringing it to her bulging breast, relieving it from the wired cup._

_"Just feel." And so he does. The slow rhythm of life that flows in her heart, under the pressure of his palm, her nipple hardening into a soft peak, and he stares as she closes her eyes. She holds his hand harder onto her chest, and she brings his other to her lips, moving the strap of thick lace away, plunging his fingers inside, making her cry out. "Mr. Banner."_

_He is not sure if he is moving his hand, or if it is she, in and out, the walls of her insides, pulling him back, where he can feel her soft nub shiver. "Please," she pleads, her eyes still closed, and on his own accord, he pushes his fingers farther, until he hits the spot that makes her shake, over and over, diving. His thumb, rubs her clit, taking her to he brink of her release._

_When she comes down from her high, he holds her, watching her swallow, her throat thick from the estacy of his touch. Her eyes open, slowly, glazed over and searching. Her abdomen moves, as she tries to catch her breathing, his fingers still inside, moving slightly with each breath she takes._

_The next morning, he cannot see her, if he does, they will all know how intimate they were the night before. He shuffles with the papers on his desks, looking up every second or two, waiting until it is her entering the classroom. He wonders where she is, suddenly not caring, even if there are stains on his hand from where her juices milked his fingers, she needs to be here._

_The bell rings, echoing in his ears, unforgiving and loud. He turns to write the assignment on the board, and his chalk breaks, when he feels her breath on his ear, "Sorry, I'm late."_


	2. Just Like Honey

_A/N: I was re-reading New Moon today, and well my mind wondered. Dirty situations a'coming._

_Dislcaimer: I don't own Twilight, just my imagination._

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><p><em>In her honey dripping beehive, it's so good, so good, so good. -<em> The Jesus and Mary Chain

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><p><em>You sit next to him, your arm almost brushing his, hairs standing, your skin burns from being so close. You don't make a move, looking past the view of the ocean, into the sun, yellow muddling into faded orange amber. You feel his hand come onto your stomach, and his heated lips on your throat.<em>

_Soft and warm, they make you shiver. He pulls you closer, your thigh touching his leg, and your turn your face to look down. Sand and driftwood, your hand moves to hold the log, anxious, in the quiet summer night._

_You are alone with him, and you aren't sure what is happening, or why. But you don't stop it, or mumble a word, he is in control, and you find that you don't mind at all._

_His hand moves down from your ribs, and to your leg, catching the edge your ruffled dress, and underneath. Wandering, his fingertips leave goosebumps, they trail from the inside of your thigh, and over, to the place that holds the most heat between your legs._

_"Jake," you breathe his name as he presses his palm against you, sudden and sure, cupping your plush mound firmly in his hand. You close your eyes, and listen as he groans, breathing heavily into your hair, feeling you damp, wet and ready for him._

_You are lost when he starts to rub you, slow but persistent, the constant pressure of him pushing back and forth, bringing you pleasure. Feeling the building in your stomach, you gasp when he moves the cotton fabric out of the way, and his fingers move inside, dividing your lips, burying themselves in the sticky warmth that smells of musk._

_He moves to lay you down, his fingers still moving within you, hard and fast, he pushes your dress over so the end of it touches your chest. You feel the humid air, sticky and moist, on your skin, but it arouses you more when he breathes, adding to the heat._

_But when he stops, your eyes open, fast and anxious. You don't want him to stop, you want him to keep going, to have his way with you. You don't know whether or not you turned him off, and hope to god you didn't look like a fool, withering and begging for his touch._

_He assures you, looping his fingers beneath the sides of the thin cotton that separates you and him, barely. You start to breathe again, lifting your legs, helping him discard of the damp garment. He tosses it to the side, taking you by surprise, when he places your thighs on his shoulders. You find the position peculiar, and even strange._

_Is he really going to? With his mouth? Yes. And when you realize and feel the wet warmth of his slippery tongue prodding against your opening, you squirm, unconsciously pulling him closer. The feeling, makes your shake, and your hands dig into the sand, clumping up the grains between your fingers, the clamminess of your skin pulling the dry particles to stick together._

_"Oh, god." Your head moves up, your hair all around you, and you struggle to stay quiet, breathing through your open mouth. You can taste the salty brine from the waves in the air, and feel the breeze tickle your skin, alone, the both of you, this nothing like you could have ever imagined._

_When he starts to move his tongue from the end of your bottom and up to the top of your clit, licking and sucking, you almost cum right then and there, but he stops you, his rough hands squeezing your thighs harder, pulling you so that his face disappears deep within the confines of your flesh, you do not fight him._

_You feel so hot, and you elude pleasure. You cannot think, only feel, as the building in your stomach leaves you convulsing in his tight grip. You cannot move, helpless, surrendering to the power of his desire. "Jacob," you feel frightened, the need for pressure between your legs teasing, floating, you are going to explode._

_You aren't sure what is happening, or if what is happening, is right. You have never felt the rush underneath your skin, or the ripened peak of combustion. Blushed pink, your lips beg for him, when you cry out, surprised and fully appreciative._

_Your legs shake, and it takes a second or two, for you to move them. But when you do, and you see his face, eyes stopping at his mouth glistening with the honey flow of your lust, you feel yourself wet once more._

_You sit open-mouthed, and shocked, panting, your fingers relaxing into the sand, letting the gold shimmer fall on the ground. "What was that?"_


	3. Baby Says

_A/N: This one was requested by telling(.)it(.)like(.)it(.)is, asking for a sort of fantasy of Edward and Bella in which they videotape there sexual rendezvous. Hope you enjoy, I changed alot of the fantasy and make it different. Hope you don't mind. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight._

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><p><em>Baby says if ever you see skin as fair, or eyes as deep and as black as mine, I'll know you're lying<em>

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><p>The scene starts out like this. You see us enter the room, the door opening, and Edward shutting it quietly. It clicks, and I smooth out my dress pointlessly out of nervousness, and Edward bites his bottom lip before smirking. He doesn't know you're watching, and that makes it even more exciting. I sit on the edge of the bed, the soft flowing dress huffing and I don't bother to smooth it under my bottom. It it going to come off anyway.<p>

He joins me, sitting, his hand coming upon my exposed thigh, the whist of fabric flimsy and easily tossable. I smile quietly, and his hand reaches into the side of my face, fisting the roots of my hair, and pulls my head to his. His lips press against mine, the pressure sending a whoosing sensation down into the swell of my stomach, causes a wetness to creep from my plump lips. I squeeze my thighs together, and while he thinks I am wet for him, really, it is you I see when I close my eyes.

I grab his collar and pull him closer, my hands trailing down the buttons of his shirt, feeling his hands come around to the backs of my thighs, and then I am straddling him. He thinks he got lucky tonight, finally, that after all this time, I gave into him. I smirk against his mouth, and feel his hands squeezing and kneading my cheeks, his hand creeping underneath the lace, and he touches my puckered hole, feeling me arch into his hand.

I pull away, and he chuckles, his emerald green eyes different than your brown ones, I cannot look at him. Instead, I start to kiss his neck, and nip at his skin, while unbuttoning his wrinkled work shirt. "Oh, Bella," and I can't help myself, I have to reach down to his belt buckle, unhook the latch, and pull down his zipper. I need to feel him in my mouth, his skin thick, and salty on my tongue, constricting my breathing, making me feel overwhelmed, and at his mercy. For him, for you. I do this to please.

His hand is in my hair, and I feel his thighs tense, as I bob my head up and down, skimming my teeth over and sliding my tongue under his shaft. My mouth is warm and wet, taking him fully, until I feel him hitting the back of my throat, the sensation uncomfortable, but at the same time, pleasurable. He will not last any longer. He is already trembling.

I am determined to make him cum, and when he does, it comes in spurts along my teeth and lips, and I swallow, cleaning him, and licking my lips for any remaining liquid. Watching me take his seed into my mouth, and wanting more, makes him breathe heavily, and soon, he is throbing once more. "Come here," Edward whispers, and I do. I lean up on my knees, and unzip my skirt, feeling it fall down to my ankles, and I kick it away, before climbing onto the bed on all fours.

He lays down, his hair a mess among the pillows, and he gestures for me to come closer, and his long gentle fingers come around my waist, and to my back, unclasping my white lace bra, sliding it off my shoulders until my breasts are bared to him, soft and lush, in his mouth and hands. He worships me and I lift my head up, moaning, making my eyes meet the small red dot on the ceiling. I bite my lip, and buckle my hips into Edward's hardness. "I want you," I gasp. To you, but he thinks it's meant for him.

Edward cannot stand the thin barrier between us any longer, and so he reaches down, and tugs at my panties, making them tangle around my knees, and his finger seeks solace in my heat, pumping me, reaching for my mouth with his lips. I cry into him, his fingers curling inside of me, his groans muffling any noise I make.

When he is sure I am wet enough to take him inside of me, he turns me around and I whimper at the loss of his hand, but then when he lowers me onto his cock, I collaspe, my back hitting his chest, the back of my head resting between the juncture of his neck and collarbone.

You see us through this lense, pushing back and foward, erractically. Up and down, searching for a way of release, climax. The tape goes on to show my head being pulled upward, gasping for air, welcoming his rough mouth, wanting. His thrusts quicken, and I feel him, deep inside of me, hitting a place that makes me scruch my face, crying out from the intense feeling that makes me gasp, I almost think I want him to stop. But I won't, I promised you I wouldn't.

It does not end. My back against his chest, makes you shiver, from behind and to the front, he is there, thick and erect, pushing, he keeps pushing. I turn and sit on his lap, pausing, as his arms snake around me, holding me down on his shaft. Keeping his warmth between my legs, this position fills me painfully. With his face in my hair, he grunts, and it is then when I know you do too.

Taking yourself into your hand, your thumb grazes the head, slowly, the pucker end leaking clear liquid. You breathe, your mouth open, eyes glazed over in anticipation. I look into the screen, and arch my back, my head on his neck, closing my eyes and then opening them again when he stabs further, deeper, hurting.

I know you like watching, sucluded in darkness, the light of the film reflecting on your face, and in your eyes, as you fantasize about taking me like he is now. But harder, faster, with only your name escaping from my lips. You stroke faster, your tongue licking your bottom lip, as you feel the blood thumping on your palm, waiting. This is the only way you can get off, and for that, I offer myself willingly to anyone you wish.

"Jacob," I say when I come, but Edward does not hear, he is too absorbed in his motions, trying to find his release.

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><p><em>Review? Request anything you want me to write, and I'll get back to you.<em>


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